


Special Delivery

by UltraSwagnus



Category: Original NSFW
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Flirting, Frottage, Masturbation, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Valve Fingering (Transformers)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-19 18:13:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21908182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltraSwagnus/pseuds/UltraSwagnus
Summary: a gift for my friend <3
Kudos: 16





	Special Delivery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HappyGriffTime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyGriffTime/gifts).

Express had transformed out of his alt mode and began walking at his usual pace. Gripping the strap of his mailbag, he walked up the pathway and into the main lobby of the apartment complex. Since this particular building was in the upper district of the Satellite Space Station, it was a little nicer than some of the ones he had delivered mail to from the lower levels.

Reaching into his subspace, the mail mech retrieved a key and opened the mail fixture set in the lobby. He took out the mail that was to be processed and sent out for the next day and swapped it with the mail that corresponded with each tenant that was to be delivered _this _day. But there was one piece of mail, one package, deep in his subspace that couldn’t be placed inside the mounted postal boxes. Oh, _no_. This had to be hand delivered.

He had delivered packages to this person several times, and each time only made him more and more eager for the next. He bit his lower lip in excitement as he pressed the button that would summon the elevator.

* * *

It felt like an eternity as he stood inside of the elevator, waiting for the door to open again. He tapped his pede impatiently. _ “Come on, come on…!” _ he thought to himself. Finally, he arrived at the top floor and quickly walked towards the door that corresponded with the package’s address. He needn’t check it at this point as he had it memorized.

He knocked three times at the large door and looked upward. A few moments passed before it opened. The Head of Security, Chief Airstrike stood at the doorway. She looked down after realizing the person who had knocked wasn’t of a standard height. She smiled.

“Hey there, Express. Got something for me?”

Express licked his lips as he stared at her. The seeker glistened, and as his optics continued to wander across her frame, he could see cleaning solvent dripping down the glass panels of her upper torso.

_ She had just gotten out of the shower. _

“Yes, ma’am, I do,” he replied, reaching into his subspace and taking out her package. She took it from him and set it under her arm. Express pulled out a small device from his mailbag and held it up for her, where she then signed her name with her finger on the touch screen.

She thanked him and the mail truck held the brim of his helm and tipped it towards her out of respect.

“My pleasure,” he smiled.

And then Express turned to leave.

_“The pleasure doesn’t have to end here, you know.”_

And then Express turned back around.

He looked again up at her. The beautiful seeker was giving him heavy berthroom eyes, and he could feel a wave of heat rising to his face _ among other places _. 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Airstrike chuckled.

“Don’t be coy, Express.”

She stepped forward, towering over him. Leaning forward, the security chief took her hand and caressed the side of his jaw. A bolt of electricity sparked down into his array from the moment she touched him. 

_ “You’re far too cute for that.” _

* * *

Airstrike’s berth was large to accommodate her size. Much larger than what Express was used to back in his own flat, being decently larger than a minibot himself. The padding she had on the top of it would work well to prevent any extra scratches or dents that might occur.

As she inserted her third finger into his valve, Express let out a groan.

“You’re doing well for someone who hasn’t been stretched out like this in a while,” she praised. Airstrike began to move the trine of digits inside of him, pulling the internal protomesh lining of the port.

Express whined and writhed underneath the seeker’s frame. The mail courier began to moan as Airstrike began to pull her fingers out and reinsert them. Her pace was slow at first, but it didn’t take long before Express’s valve welcomed the increase in mass. 

_ “Oh, frag me…!” _ he blurted out, arching his lower linkage.

“Don’t get too excited. This is just to prepare you,” she reminded. But the reminder only served as a catalyst for another whine. If she would just curl her fingers a little she could easily brush her fingertips against some sensitive sensors.

“I’m ready,” Express said eagerly. “I think I’m prepared enough.”

Airstrike let out a short laugh as she retracted her fingers from his valve.

“Are you sure? I don’t know if you’re ready for such a _ large package_,” she replied. Express heard a click and lifted himself up to see. And what he saw was Chief Airstrike holding her large spike in her grip. His optics grew wide and his mouth watered. The red seeker gave a few inviting strokes to her length, indulging Express’ imagination. “I don’t want to damage you,” she added.

The mail truck hoisted himself onto his knees and sat up on the berth, the red and blue accented spike inches away from his face. He opened his mouth but stopped his next move to look up at Airstrike. She gave him a nod

_ “Go ahead.” _

With her permission, Express put his lips around the head of spike and sucked on it. He swirled his glossa around it, adjusting his jaw to her size. She was certainly a mouthful, but nothing he couldn’t handle.

She moaned softly as he moved down her length and back up again. Airstrike held Express’ helm between her gentle hands as he blew her. Express could feel his valve getting wetter with increased arousal as he sucked on her spike. He took one of his hands and wrapped it around the base of her spike as he continued to perform oral, stroking her in sync with the bobs of his helm.

Not long after did her soft moans shift into dominant grunts. The grip she had on his helm became firmer, and Express found his intake being fragged by the Satellite’s Chief of Security. He did his best to be a good little mech and let her do as she pleased, keeping his mouth wide and willing, much like his legs desired to be.

_ But that would come in a moment. _

Airstrike’s frame went rigid, and she pushed herself into his intake as far as she could without choking him. Express looked up at her and watched her expression as her mouth hung open and she let out a shout, overloading into his oral port.

It was so much to take in, and he swallowed as much as could as it gushed into him.

_ “Good mech, good mech... Take it all,” _ she cooed. 

* * *

Airstrike’s spike remained pressurized as she pulled it out of Express’ mouth. The smaller mech gave the head of it a kiss before she could take it away completely. She chuckled sweetly at him.

“Well, aren’t you a sweetspark, kissing a superior officer’s spike.”

Express blushed coyly as he laid back down on her padded berth, legs spread wide. It was impossible to ignore the wet valve calling for her. He rubbed his anterior node in front of her as a means to entice her. But he needn’t bother.

“Flip over,” she ordered.

Without any hesitation, he obeyed her. He raised his aft and spread himself further for her, waiting in anticipation for her to take him, to feel her large spike stretch him out and rail him.

Express let out a small sound of surprise as he felt her large hands wrap around his thighs and pull him closer to her. He could feel her pressurized length resting on his aft. He gnawed on his lower lip as she grabbed his hip plating and lifted his lower half slightly above the berth, allowing her spike to slip under him.

She teased him a little, frotting herself between the metal folds of his valve. He was deliciously wet and coated her length nicely. Express sighed as he felt the head of her spike rub against his anterior node.

The sigh quickly turned into a gasp as she pulled back, pressed the head of her spike against the opening of his valve, and pushed into him. It inserted without any difficulty and slipped past the first ring of calipers in his valve.

_ “More,” _ he moaned.

Airstrike smiled and pushed herself in a little farther, stretching the first ring of calipers and going past the second, then the third. The mail mech cried out as she filled him up. She took firm hold of his hips and gave him a slow fragging first. Express’ mouth hung open and his hands scratched against the soft padding under him.

“You’re still so tight, Express,” Airstrike spoke, increasing her pace a bit. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

_ “Oh, god, yes!!” _ he whined. The Security Chief had found a patch of nodes in the back of his valve. “Ms. Airstrike, _ please...harder!!” _

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’ then,” she grinned. “Prepare yourself, Express.”

With a harder force behind her, Airstrike slammed into his valve over and over again. No sensor was left untouched as her entire spike was now being thrust into his thoroughly stretched and thoroughly soaked valve. Express’ optics rolled in their sockets. Airstrike continued to pound his protomesh lining, listening to the sounds coming out of his vocalizer. He was moaning loudly, crying out with each penetration.

_ “YES, YES, YES, YES, _ _ YESSSSS!!” _

Express screamed, his entire frame’s circuit networking lighting up with ecstasy. Airstrike didn’t stop. She wanted to drag out his overload as far as it would go. His valve tightened around her, but he was still slick enough for her to thrust into. 

It was quite clear that the little mail truck could handle a rough fragging as well.

* * *

Airstrike was generous enough to let him clean himself up before heading back to the post office to finish his shift for the day.

“If anyone questions you about why you were late returning to work tell them you were pulled over by a cop. They can call me if they have any concerns. I’ll take care of it.”

Express once again found himself standing in front of Airstrike as she stood in the doorway of her apartment. His face was still flushed from their impromptu rendezvous and walking would prove to be a challenge for a short while. 

Again, he tipped his helm at her, turned, and left.


End file.
